Down on Main Street
by Bad Faery
Summary: AU- One night in Blackpool, a washed-up wrestler rescues a young dancer in a dark alley. Molly Holly x William Regal
1. Chapter 1

Darren finished yanking his shirt over his head and rubbed his jaw with a wince. That last match had been considerably tougher than it should have been. Darren had pinned the challenger in the end but the other man had put up one hell of a fight. He couldn't remember the last time he'd misjudged an opponent so badly.

'Perhaps you're getting a bit old for this,' a little voice in his head suggested, as it did every time he finished a night more battered than he'd planned. As usual, he ignored it. It might be right or it might not. Either way, there was little he could do about it. Wrestling was his life. He wasn't fit for anything else.

He pulled on his jacket and left the rundown building with a sigh, slamming the door behind him for good measure. This was what he'd always wanted to do, he reminded himself. Ever since he was a kid he'd wanted nothing more than to wrestle for Roddy Kirkpatrick. Funny how he'd never quite pictured the bruises and broken bones that would result, nor the loneliness of his chosen profession.

'Maudlin tonight, aren't we?' He bet none of the tourists he'd faced tonight would believe the brutal Lord Regal capable of this kind of introspection. The atmosphere wasn't helping his mood. The night was overcast, clouds and fog blocking out the moon completely. The occasional streetlight served only to highlight the drunks and streetwalkers that made up the portion of Blackpool society that saw fit to be out and about at three o'clock in the morning.

It was dirty. It was tawdry. It was home.

The sounds of a scuffle penetrated his funk. 'Amateurs...' he thought dismissively, intending to let the drunks sort it out for themselves. He was off the clock.

A woman's voice shouting, "Let me GO!" reached him next. He hesitated. Probably a prostitute who'd bitten off a bit more than she could chew. Hell, maybe her "client" was into playacting. No matter, it was none of his business. He resumed walking.

Or she could be in legitimate trouble. He paused again, annoyed with himself. He was not the knight in shining armor type. Fighting was his job, not his hobby. And he really didn't want to get knifed just because some girl was having a fight with her boyfriend.

Then again, he didn't want to read about her in the paper the next day and then have to look at himself in the mirror.

He sighed again and headed for the dimly lit alley the voice seemed to have come from. Hopefully all he'd have to do was look threatening and the matter would solve itself. He was good at looking threatening.

He rounded the corner and took in the situation with a glance. Two men, looking as disreputable as he'd assumed, were advancing on a blond woman in a short beige trench coat. 'Probably not a hooker then...' He watched for a moment, looking for a good opening.

As he did so the not-hooker loosed a right hook that sent one of the men flying. Darren took a moment to be impressed, rather in spite of himself, when the man stayed down. Her action seemed to have angered the man left standing and Darren stepped into the fray as he advanced on her.

"Bitch!" the thug snarled, lifting a fist to express his displeasure. Darren caught his wrist from behind, twisting the man's arm behind his back and bearing him to the ground. He settled his knee firmly on the man's kidneys before looking to the blond woman. "Are you all right?"

She stared at him, wide-eyed, for a moment, then nodded.

"Good." He addressed his next remark to the man beneath him. "I'm sure you have other places to be, don't you?"

The man struggled for a moment then gave up. He nodded as best he could in his position.

"Excellent. So if I let you go, you and your friend will run along and not bother the lady again?"

The thug hesitated, then nodded again.

"Just the answer I was looking for." Darren ground his knee into the man's back for a moment, driving his point home. He then got up, keeping himself between the two men and the blond woman. "Be off."

The man dragged himself to his feet and took off at a run, not waiting for his associate to catch up.

Satisfied that they were sufficiently scared off, Darren turned his attention to the woman. She was still staring off in the direction the two men had fled. "Are you sure you're all right?"

She made no reply, save for a slight shudder.

'Probably in shock,' he decided. 'Can't leave her here, she'll just be a target for someone else.' He touched her elbow lightly, raising his hands in the universal 'I mean you no harm' gesture when she whirled to face him. "I won't hurt you," he said quickly, reassuring her. "But we should get out of here."

The woman looked at him suspiciously for a moment, then evidently decided he was to be trusted. She relaxed visibly and lowered her head in acquiescence.

Slowly, so as not to frighten her, Darren wrapped his arm around her and led her out of the alley.

"Thank you," she said softly, once they were back out on the street.

He looked over at her in surprise. Until this moment he hadn't even been sure that she *could* talk. "You're welcome," he replied simply.

They continued to walk in silence for a moment, the woman seemingly content to go wherever he led her. "So where in America are you from?" he asked, searching for a non-threatening topic of conversation. Somehow 'so why were you being attacked?' didn't seem like an illustrious start.

She looked up at him quickly, her hair half-hiding her face. He smiled at her evident confusion, "The accent's a bit of a dead giveaway, love."

She considered this for a moment, then smiled faintly in return. "I suppose it is," she conceded, brushing her hair back.

She was, Darren realized, actually very pretty. The alley had been too dark for him to properly see her before. He couldn't say that she was a showstopper, but she had lovely brown eyes.

"Alabama," she said after a moment, causing him to jump slightly as he realized he'd been caught staring. She didn't seem to notice. "I'm from Alabama."

"Ah," he replied intelligently. Perhaps this topic hadn't been the best choice after all. What could he say? He'd never been to Alabama.

She took pity on him. "What about you? Where in England are you from?"

"I was born right here in Blackpool," he answered. "I've never really been anywhere else."

"Oh." Now it was her turn to be stumped for conversation. 'Why were you being attacked?' was looking better all the time.

"It's nice here," she finally ventured, doing better than he had with her answer. "Sometimes, anyway."

"That it is," he agreed. "This isn't the best neighborhood though." It was, he was startled to discover, his neighborhood. Without even realizing it, he'd been leading her to his flat.

"I guess not."

"May I offer you a cup of tea?" There. Now he had a decent reason for bringing her to his home. "You look like you could use one after the night you've had."

She stiffened again at his question and he hastened to reassure her, "I swear I won't touch you. I just..." he couldn't think of anything else to say. 'I'm not a rapist, I promise,' didn't seem helpful.

To his surprise his promise seemed to appease her. "All right," she agreed. "If you wanted to hurt me, you could've done it by now. I'll trust you."

He was inordinately pleased by her statement. 'What the hell is wrong with you? You've known her five minutes.' Even so, he was frantically trying to remember what sort of state he'd left the flat in when he'd left. It wouldn't do to disgust a lady.

Fortunately, he was the neat sort and the flat proved fit for company when he opened the door and ushered her inside. She looked around curiously, and he followed her eyes, trying to see his home from her perspective. Shabby but clean, most of the furniture had seen better days but it was all in good repair. A few pictures, fewer knickknacks, plenty of books. Not stylish perhaps, but it was comfortable.

She seemed to approve. "I like it," she said. "It's clean." She seemed to consider this high praise. He took it as such.

"Thank you."

She turned to him, subjecting him to the same scrutiny. Once again, she seemed to approve, "You're welcome."

"May I take your coat?" he asked, realizing he wasn't being a terribly good host. "I'll get the tea on in just a moment."

She hesitated, hands going to the fastenings of her trench coat. After a moment she came to a decision and began to undo the buttons. She slipped off the coat and handed it to him, leaving her standing before him in a short black skirt that looked like it was made out of rubber and a rather low-cut white top.

Sensing this was some kind of test, Darren made an effort not to look too closely at her body. He took her coat gallantly and gestured to the room, "Please, make yourself comfortable. Sit anywhere that you like."

Apparently he had passed. She smiled at him, the first real smile he'd seen on her face, and took a seat at the small dining table that stood near the kitchenette. "Kitchens are the best," she remarked. "All real conversations happen in kitchens."

"I could not agree more," he concurred, hanging up both their coats. Hopefully this meant they were going to have a real conversation. He was curious about this woman, more curious than he'd been about anything in a very long time.

He couldn't keep thinking about her as 'this woman.' "I don't know your name," he commented, putting the kettle on and taking a seat across from her.

"Molly. They call me Molly Holly."

He nodded. "That's pretty. And what's your real name?"

He seemed to have passed this test too. She smiled again. "It's Nora Greenwald. I work for Jack Boyd, about a block from where you found me in the alley." She looked at him closely, waiting for a response.

"I know the place." Boyd's was well-known around Blackpool. He employed attractive women to "entertain" the male clientele. Some danced, others... performed more specific services. He'd bet money that Nora only danced. There was just something in her eyes. "As for names, I like Nora better."

That made it three knock-outs in a row. Damn but he was on a role here. His response, or lack thereof, pleased her. "I do too."

"I'm Darren Matthews," he offered. "Although at Roddy Kirkpatrick's place I'm known as Lord Steven Regal."

"That sounds very distinguished." She extended her hand which he took. "It's nice to meet you, Darren."

"Nice to meet you too, Nora." He squeezed her hand lightly before letting go.

"So you're a fighter."

"I'm a *wrestler*" he stressed. Somehow it was very important to him that she made this distinction.

She inclined her head, taking no offense at the correction. "A wrestler then, I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's a... fine line."

At that the tea kettle began to whistle shrilly, interrupting the moment. He got up to retrieve it, fixing a cup for each of them. "How do you take it?" He winced slightly at the unintended double entendre.

"Lemon please, if you have it." She politely ignored the slip.

Thankful that he'd done the week's shopping early, he added a twist of lemon to her mug and handed it to her, before adding a splash of milk to his own.

When he sat back down she proffered her mug for a toast. "To unexpected rescues."

"Unexpected rescues." He tapped his mug lightly against hers and held her gaze as she took a sip. She sighed in pleasure.

"This is excellent. Just what I needed."

"I'm glad," he said seriously.

She flushed slightly and looked down. He took a hasty sip of his own tea to cover his confusion. When he risked another look at her, she was staring at him intently. "You're probably wondering about all this."

Darren didn't bother to deny it; she wouldn't have believed him anyway.

"I'm a dancer at Boyd's. An exotic dancer as we call them in America. But *all* I do is dance," she looked at him anxiously, willing him to believe her.

He nodded; he'd already figured that much out for himself.

Reassured, she continued, "The two guys in the alley tonight come in every so often. They took a liking to me awhile ago. They gave good tips so I didn't let it bother me, but lately they've been on me to be more... hands-on in entertaining them."

"I understand." He wished he didn't.

"Tonight they drank more than they usually do. And usually they leave before closing but tonight they just stayed. When I left, they followed me. I was going to duck into one of the pubs the next block up and try to lose them, but they grabbed me first. They pulled me into that alley, and they tried... they tried to..."

Nora's voice broke, the first time her control had slipped during her narrative. Darren covered her hand with his, wishing he could do more to comfort her.

Seeming to derive strength from the touch, she soldiered on, "I held them off for awhile but they kept coming at me. If you hadn't have come when you did they would've raped me."

She lowered her head with a sob, the events of the night catching up with her at last. Darren winced at her tears, wishing he'd hurt the two thugs more when he had the chance. Nora continued to cry and he looked around desperately. Finer feelings weren't his strong point. God, he had no idea what to do for her.

Finally he left his chair and knelt beside her. Uncertainly he extended his arms, ready to be rebuffed. Instead Nora collapsed against him. His arms went around her automatically, holding her close as she buried her face in his neck. He rubbed her back soothingly, saying nothing. He couldn't begin to think of what he could say that would make her feel better.

Eventually she cried herself out. She held onto him for a minute longer before letting go and sitting up, face averted in embarrassment. Darren busied himself with bringing her a box of tissues and resumed his seat, waiting patiently for her to regain control.

"I'm sorry," she said, wiping her face.

"Don't be. You're entitled. More than entitled."

She gave him a watery smile and blew her nose furiously. When she finished, she was once again the self-contained woman he'd ushered up to his flat.

"Thank you," she said again. "For everything. Most people wouldn't even have stopped."

"I'm glad I was there," he replied simply, meaning it.

"So am I."

They stared at each other and finished their tea in silence.

"I should go," she said abruptly. "I've bothered you for too long already."

"It wasn't a bother," he protested. "Do you... have someone waiting for you?" Even as he asked the question, he realized how very much he wanted her answer to be 'no'.

"No," she replied, answering his prayers. "But this is your home and I'm intruding."

Standing up with her, he realized that telling her that she wasn't intruding, that he was enjoying having her there was probably not wise. Instead he went to retrieve their coats. "I'll walk you home."

"Oh I couldn't ask you to do that. I've been so much trouble already."

"You aren't asking, I'm offering," he corrected, slipping on his jacket.

"But-"

"No buts," he held up a finger, stilling her. "Either you let me walk you home or you sleep here tonight. Trust me, I'm more stubborn than you are."

"I could argue that," she informed him.

"I'm sure you could."

"All right," she gave in, ending the impasse. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He locked the door behind him and followed her down to the street. Wrapping a protective arm around her, he asked, "Which way?"

Without further argument she directed him through the streets of Blackpool until they reached her flat. It was in a neighborhood he was vaguely familiar with. Not the best place in town but not the worst; it was a street a woman could probably walk alone at night without being murdered. He surprised himself by how protective he felt at the idea of her walking alone.

"This is it," she announced in front of a building that looked like all the others. He made a mental note of the number. Just in case.

"Would you... Would you like to come up?" she offered a bit uncertainly.

He hesitated. "I would," he admitted honestly, "But I'd best not. You look tired."

She nodded ruefully, "I am."

They stood for a moment, looking at each other. He wanted to kiss her good night, he realized. Wanted it badly. But she was tired and still shaken, he couldn't help but feel he'd be taking advantage of her. "Good night, Nora," he said finally, settling for a quick hug.

She hugged him back immediately. "Good night, Darren." She let go and backed away from him slowly. "Will you be all right walking back?"

He smiled wryly and indicated his broad, six foot two frame. "I'll be fine," he assured her.

"I suppose you will at that." She smiled one last time and made her way up the stairs. "Night."

"Good night." He waited until she was inside with the door locked behind her before he left.

'You're falling fast and hard," his inner voice informed him. 'Way too fast. You hardly know her.'

It had a point, he admitted to himself. He knew her name and where she worked, everything else remained an enigma. How did a girl from Alabama wind up working as a dancer in England? And where did she learn to throw a punch like that?

However it wasn't those mysteries his mind dwelt on that night in his bed. Instead he remained focused on a pair of sparkling brown eyes and the feel of her slender form in his arms. He had to see her again, he decided. Tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

Darren awoke early the next day, something he quickly regretted. He straightened up the flat first, a task that took about ten minutes. The place was clean, the shopping was done for the week and he had absolutely nothing else to do. He tried to focus on a copy of "Sign of the Four" but his thoughts kept drifting to an image of long blond hair and a charming smile. Finally, disgusted with himself, he went to work early.

The day continued to drag once he arrived. It was the usual mix of drunks and gawking tourists gathered outside the building. He did his job mechanically, insulting and antagonizing the crowd, drumming up business. His gaze kept wandering down the street in the direction of Boyd's, hoping against hope that he'd catch sight of her walking to work. He did not and finally, with six challengers lined up for the evening, he went inside to get ready.

He changed, stretched, and when his cue came methodically destroyed his opponents. Oh yes, just another day at the office.

He got off early that night, the last fight of the evening going to Ian, the pirate character they'd just hired. Roddy pulled him aside to assure him that it was just a reward for coming in early, not a sign he was being phased out. Darren found that he didn't really care. 'Perhaps it's time to seek a new line of work,' the little voice nagged him. Darren told it to go fuck itself and left for the night.

He'd offer to walk her home, he decided. Hopefully she would accept the offer more easily than she had last night. Perhaps, if he got very lucky, she would allow him to make her tea again. There was so much more he wanted to know about Nora Greenwald. He prayed that tonight he would make a start of getting to know her.

He realized he'd miscalculated when he arrived outside Boyd's a full hour before closing. He considered his options quickly. He could go to a pub and get a drink to bide his time. He wasn't much of a drinker though, and the noisy, combatant pub atmosphere held little attraction for him. He could find a wall to hold up and wait for her to come out. This was a possibility, although he didn't care to be cited for loitering. Or he could go inside.

He debated the last option for some time. He wanted to see her in any way possible. Then again, he wasn't sure he wanted to see her dancing for hordes of drunkards. He was starting to think of Nora with a definite possessiveness; the thought of her baring herself for the enjoyment of strangers already set his teeth on edge. He wasn't sure he could watch her do it and not... Well, he wasn't sure he could watch her do it. Plus he didn't want to risk her seeing him in there and thinking that he was like them, only interested in her body.

In the end he stayed where he was, leaning against a wall opposite Boyd's stage door. Nobody questioned his presence, one of the advantages of looking somewhat intimidating. His patience was rewarded an hour or so later when Nora exited the building dressed in the beige coat she'd worn the previous night and very impractical looking high heels. He supposed she'd been wearing them last night too.

She looked around carefully as she left, on her guard against the two men he'd dispatched the previous day. She spotted him immediately and he smiled as he approached her. "Hello, Nora."

"Hi." She looked surprised to see him. Surprised, but not upset which he took as a good sign.

"Did you have a good day?" He winced inwardly, small talk was not his forte.

"Eh," she shrugged. "It was a day. Although I didn't get attacked, which is a good thing." She smiled, showing it was a joke.

He returned the smile politely. "May I walk you home?" he asked, getting to the point of his being there.

She thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. "I'd like that." She took his proffered arm. "This time I'll provide the tea. If that's all right with you."

"That's fine with me." More than fine. Perfect.

As they walked he regaled her with stories of the men who'd made challenges that day. She listened eagerly, genuinely seeming to enjoy hearing them. Her favorite was the story of the seventy-five year old American gentleman who'd been determined to fight one of them in order to impress his equally aged wife.

"...Andrew was afraid he'd break the old man if he touched him, so he just stood there to take the hit. He went down hard when the gentleman punched him; we thought he was playing along but he had a nasty bruise when he came out. Apparently the man used to be in the Marines and he's stayed in shape ever since. Andrew said that if he'd known that, he would've been sure to hit first, maybe that way he would have stood a chance."

Nora laughed, "And did it impress his wife?"

"Yes, indeed. He got quite a welcome when he got back to his table."

By this time they were at her doorstep. She gestured for him to follow her inside as she said, "They probably make a living hustling unsuspecting wrestlers. Make a few bets and never have to worry about retirement funds. This is it."

She took his coat as he looked around. Her flat was smaller than his own but much more stylishly decorated. Her furniture was fairly basic but everything was painted so skillfully that it was easy not to notice. The walls were painted in blocks of different shades of yellow, making a perfect background for the brightly painted designs on the furniture. Several delicate mobiles hung from the ceiling and the overall effect announced 'an artist lives here.' "It's beautiful," he said after a moment, "It suits you."

She blushed in pleasure at his declaration. "Thank you. Um, would you mind if I went and changed? I don't like to wear my work clothes if I don't have to."

He looked at her outfit for the first time, taking in the tight blue halter top and matching skirt. She couldn't be comfortable. "Of course, please."

"Thanks," she smiled at him brightly. "Make yourself at home, I'll be right back."

After she closed her bedroom door, he took the opportunity to look around more closely. He inspected a collection of photographs displayed on a side table. One picture featured a younger- looking Nora with dark hair standing with two older people he took to be her parents. Another pictured her with two blond men who looked to be a few years older than her. Brothers, he assumed. One looked painfully serious, and the other was wearing a goofy smile. Nora looked happy to be with them.

"My cousins," she said, coming up behind him. He hadn't heard her enter the room. "The tall one is Bob, and the dopey- looking one is Crash."

"Crash?"

"He broke his arm four times by the time he was six," she explained, "We nicknamed him Crash because he was always breaking something. Usually himself."

Darren studied the picture again. "It fits."

He sat the picture down and turned to her, breath catching in his throat. She'd removed her makeup and was dressed in a modest pair of fuzzy flannel pajamas. She was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. She was also considerably shorter than she'd been the last time he stood next to her. 'Of course, the shoes.'

Nora didn't seem to notice his response. "I'll put the kettle on."

He followed her mutely to the stove. "Can I help?" he offered, finally finding his voice.

She shooed him away, "No, go sit down. You're a guest."

He took a seat at the table, remembering her comment last night about kitchens. Hopefully this conversation wouldn't end with her in tears. He doubted that it would; Nora didn't seem prone to that kind of thing. Last night's circumstances were a special case.

She placed the kettle on the burner and joined him at the table. "So, let me guess. You're wondering what a nice girl like me is doing working at a place like Boyd's."

Her directness made him smile. "Something like that."

"I'll make you a deal then," she said. "You tell me how you ended up being a wrestler and I'll tell you how I ended up here. Deal?"

"Deal. My story isn't all that interesting though," he cautioned as she got up to pour the tea.

She sat the mugs down and shook her head, "Let me be the judge of that."

"All right. But I warned you." He took a deep breath and began his tale. "I grew up a few streets away from here. My family would go to the amusement park every weekend during the summer, just to walk around. Sometimes we had the money to ride, sometimes we didn't. But we always came. I was maybe seven years old when I first saw the wrestlers. All these characters were lined up outside Roddy's place, challenging people to fight."

He took a sip of tea and smiled in remembrance. "I thought it was the most amazing thing in the world. I told my parents right then that that's what I wanted to do when I grew up. They thought I'd grow out of it but I never did. When I was fifteen I signed up to fight one of them. He beat me half to death, and I loved every minute of it." He laughed a little at his youthful belief in immortality. "I kept coming back and finally Roddy gave me a job cleaning up. I worked my way into the ring and I've been there ever since."

Nora was watching him closely. "That sounds wonderful; you're doing exactly what you want to for a living. You've never even thought of doing something else?"

"Not until lately," he admitted, a little uncomfortably. "I've been doing this for almost twenty years and some days I can really feel that. I've been... enjoying it less lately. I've been wondering if it isn't time to try something else but I don't know what I could do. I didn't even finish school. I've never done anything but wrestle."

She nodded, seeming to understand his dilemma. "What would you like to do? If you could do anything at all?"

He sighed. "I don't know. I really don't even have any hobbies. I mean I read but that's about it."

"I see." She seemed content to digest his answers, not offering unsolicited advice. He respected her ability to do that, most people would have felt it was their duty to tell him what to do. Not Nora though, his interest in her was growing by the second.

After a moment she spoke again, "I guess it's my turn now. A deal's a deal."

"Only if you want to," he said quickly, not wanting to force her to reveal more than she was comfortable with.

"No, it's fine. I don't think I'll mind telling you."

A warm glow suffused him at her words. She did like him, he realized. It wasn't just all on his side.

"I started dating Matt when I was a freshman in high school," she began. "Our parents were friends; we knew each other our whole lives. He came up with this idea that we should go to England after we graduated college. I was interested of course but I didn't think he was serious. It turned out that he was, and we both worked to save up enough money to come. Somehow we did it. My family let me go; they thought that he was going to propose over here. I did too."

Darren nodded, trying to ignore the unreasonable jealously building in him at the thought of Matt and Nora together.

"I fell in love with England right away. Matt didn't like it as much. It was quite a culture shock for him. But he liked that I liked it. We went everywhere we could, looking at museums, going to plays, the whole works. One night just before we were supposed to go back home he took me out to dinner, and I knew right away that he was going to propose. It was just that kind of restaurant, you know?"

He didn't, but nodded anyway.

"So, sure enough he did, and I said yes. We went back to our room afterwards and he told me... um... that he wanted to make love to me. I was flattered, of course, and I did understand since we were engaged now but I wanted to save myself until I was married. It's just how I was brought up. I thought he'd understand, but he got really angry with me. He said he'd been waiting for me for eight years, and that I'd led him on by coming here with him. I tried to explain but he didn't listen."

Darren clutched the mug so hard he feared he would break it. Never in his life had he wanted to kill a man he'd never met. He longed for five minutes alone with this Matt, just five minutes...

"He grabbed me, I don't *know* that he would've taken me by force. I hope he wouldn't have. I didn't give him the chance. I panicked and hit him as hard as I could." She smiled a little. "That's one of the advantages of having boy cousins; they taught me how to defend myself. He called me some names, took his plane ticket and walked out. I haven't seen him since."

She looked at him for a reaction. He couldn't think of one to give her beyond, "I'm glad you hit him. I wish I could've done it for you."

Evidently that had been the right thing to say, she smiled broadly at him before continuing, "I was so mad that I didn't even want to go home. I wanted to stay here and teach him a lesson, show him that I didn't need him. I cashed out my own plane ticket and tried to find a job. In the States I'm certified to be an art teacher, and I got a lead on a job here in Blackpool. I actually worked a few months before they figured out I didn't have any kind of a visa. By then I already had my apartment so I tried to find something else. Boyd's was the only place that didn't check papers."

She finished her tea and quickly told the remainder of her story. "I took dance and gymnastics in school so it wasn't hard, just... embarrassing. I told myself it was only temporary but it's been two years and I'm still there."

He wanted to say something magical, something that would solve everything for her. Unfortunately nothing was coming to mind. "Have you ever thought of going back home?"

Nora shrugged, "Of course I've thought about it. It's just... I don't want to. I *like* it here. I never felt like I fit in back home. Here, everything works. Okay, I have an awful job but I just feel like I belong here. Does that make sense?"

He squeezed her hand. "Perfect sense."

"Good." She squeezed back. "We do seem to have intense conversations, don't we?"

Darren smiled at her, "That's the best kind." She yawned suddenly and he looked at his watch. "We have *long* intense conversations. I should be going; you need to get some sleep."

"I'm sorry," she shook her head, "I hate to chase you out."

"No, it's fine. I'll... see you tomorrow night? Is that okay?"

She walked him to the door and handed him his coat. "Yeah. That's okay."

He smiled at her and pulled her close. Oh God, she felt so soft beneath his hands... He pulled away with an effort, not wanting to go too fast. He kissed her forehead gently and said softly, "Good night, Nora."

She stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. "Good night, Darren."

He waited until he was sure she'd locked the door behind him and headed home. She'd looked so soft and cuddly in her fuzzy pajamas that he'd wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and just hold her forever, fall asleep wrapped around her, wake up in her arms...

'I'm in love with her,' he thought, not as surprised as he should have been at the idea, 'It's been two days and I'm in love with her.'

That couldn't happen, could it? People didn't just fall in love overnight. Except, apparently he did. He wondered how likely it was that she did too.


	3. Chapter 3

The next night she was waiting for him outside of Boyd's, and it was his turn to make the tea. Having covered their respective histories, the conversation that night took a more general turn. They discussed books, discovering to his pleasure that they both enjoyed the same kinds of reading- mysteries, biographies, history and any kind of general fiction they could get their hands on.

The night after they spent in her flat discussing art, which he didn't really know much about but she enjoyed.

"I paint abstracts mostly, but I'm interested in almost everything. I tried different kinds of sculpture too, but the mobiles-" she gestured to the dainty creations- "were the only things I was really good at. I sketch when I can't afford to buy paints or when I want to capture a person."

"Like a portrait?"

"Exactly," she enthused. "I've never quite been able to do people in paint. Somehow I can't get enough control to really capture the emotion. Sketching is more liberating."

"May I see something you've drawn?" he asked hesitantly, not wanting to overstep.

He needn't have worried. Nora nodded agreeably and hopped up from her seat, walking into the bedroom and returning with a large black book. She paused halfway to the table, looked at him appraisingly, then smiled. "I'll do you one better. I'll draw you."

"Me?" Why on earth would she want to draw him?

"You," she said decisively. "That is, if you don't mind..."

He shook his head instantly. "I don't mind." If Nora wanted to draw him, then Nora could draw him. "Should I move or pose or something?"

She laughed a little at that. "You don't have to pose. Just come sit..." she thought for a moment, "...on the couch, I think."

Darren obliged her, trying to sit naturally. The knowledge that she was watching him closely threw him off, and he nearly knocked over a lamp as he fidgeted. "I'm sorry," he gasped, catching it at the last moment.

She shook her head and helped him right the lamp, "No, it's fine. It's perfectly normal. Here, let's try this..." She rooted around briefly before handing him a book. "Just try to forget I'm here."

'Impossible.' He watched her get herself situated. She pulled a hardback chair over and straddled it unselfconsciously, propping her book up against the frame. She found the pencil she wanted and returned her attention to him.

"Darren..." she scolded playfully, catching him watching her. He obediently turned his attention to the book, doubtful that anything could make him forget her presence.

The book proved engaging however, and he soon lost himself in the pages, still conscious of the sound of her breathing and the scratch of her pencil as she sketched. He supposed it was as close as he could get to dismissing Nora. Gradually he stopped worrying about looking relaxed and started to actually be relaxed.

"Done," she said softly, an undetermined amount of time later.

Darren looked up in surprise; he hadn't heard her pencil stop. "Good book."

"'Atlas Shrugged'," she smiled and put her chair away. "It's one of my favorites. You can borrow it, if you like."

"Thank you," he said, as she handed him a torn piece of paper to use as a bookmark. "I will."

Nora claimed the seat next to him on the couch, curling her legs beneath her and proffering the sketch book. "Here it is."

He took the book from her and studied the picture she'd drawn. It was unmistakably him, only... better. All the pieces were there, from his broken nose to the faint scar on his jaw, only the overall picture was of a man who looked smarter, kinder, more handsome than the man he saw in his shaving mirror every morning.

He didn't know what to say. Any comment on the beauty of her work would only serve to compliment her subject. "I think you've flattered me a bit."

Nora leaned over, resting her chin on his shoulder as she studied the picture critically. She turned the same gaze on him for a moment, then looked back to the drawing. Finally she shook her head. "No," she said definitely, "That's how I see you."

His heart skipped a beat at her words. "It is?" he asked softly.

Looking straight into his eyes, she replied, "It is."

Darren cupped her face with a trembling hand. She was too close, too irresistible. He simply had to taste her. He leaned down slowly, giving her every chance to pull away. Blessedly, she did not.

Their first kiss was soft, gentle, a barely-there brush of lips. He pressed a little deeper with the next one, sucking lightly on her bottom lip. Nora's mouth opened slightly on a sigh, and he leaned in helplessly. He ran his tongue tenderly over the line of her teeth, trying hard not to ask too much of her.

She responded immediately, her lips parting for him willingly. He caressed her tongue with his own, shuddering when he felt her shy response. Her arms went around his neck, and he pulled her close, continuing to explore her mouth. Oh God, but she was sweet, the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted. He wondered how he'd survived so many years without knowing the taste of her, the shape of her mouth under his own, the feel of her soft form pressed against his chest...

He broke the kiss with an effort, allowing her to breathe. He kissed his way tenderly along her jawline and the side of her neck, and she gasped when he found a sensitive place just behind her ear. He laved his tongue over the spot, relishing her faint moan. "Nora..." he whispered, reveling in just saying her name. "*Nora*..."

He returned to her mouth, moaning at the feel of her fingers in his hair. Sensing that things were quickly getting out of control, he pulled back slightly, eyes closed, nose lightly brushing hers. She was in his lap by now; he didn't even remember how that had happened. Somehow she was curled up in his lap, and he was harder than he'd ever been in his life. She had to feel it with the way she was pressed against him. God, he hoped he hadn't offended her.

Darren opened his eyes reluctantly, not wanting to see her censure. Nora was smiling at him crookedly. "There you are..." she murmured, kissing him quickly, "I was wondering."

Returning her smile, he stroked her hair. "I thought I might have moved too fast," he answered her honestly, "I didn't want you to be upset with me."

"No chance of that," she assured him, resting her head on his chest.

They sat in silence for long moments, Darren trying to memorize the incredible feeling of her in his lap. Slowly he managed to will his arousal away, concentrating only on the beautiful woman in his arms.

"I should probably go," he said at last, and she looked up at him in surprise.

He ran a hand over the side of her face and explained as best he could, "If I don't go now... I'm not sure I'll be able to leave."

Nora smiled softly in understanding. "I'll walk you to the door then." She hugged him tight for a moment, before gracefully climbing out of his lap.

He put on his coat in silence, watching her watch him. "Good night, Nora." Bending down, he placed a last, reverent kiss on her lips.

"Good night, Darren."

The 'I love you' remained unspoken, but he thought it so loudly she must have heard him.

0 0 0 0 0

Work was more interesting the next night, although not in a good way. A trio of loud-mouths had claimed a table near the ring and were spending their time heckling the wrestlers. It got old quickly, and by the time his last fight began the imperious Lord Regal had had enough.

Taking the microphone away from the announcer he issued a challenge, "It's very well and good for young thugs like these to cause a ruckus and molest innocent grannies, but what would happen if you got in this ring with a real man?"

It was a standard challenge, one he'd issued many times in the past to other disorderly patrons. However the effect it had tonight was different.

He'd hoped for a wrestling match but would have settled for a fight. What he got was a brawl.

Three on one weren't terribly fair odds. Still in all, Darren had faced worse before. The only faintly worrisome thing was the beer bottle in the one man's hand, but two of the other wrestlers stood by to step in if there was a problem. Darren didn't foresee any.

Several minutes in, he realized that the trio had a system. A very effective system.

A dull thud to the back of his head took him down to the mat. Then he felt the sensation of broken glass digging into his scalp.

Then he felt nothing else.


	4. Chapter 4

Waking up was a bit of a surprise; he didn't even remember going home.

"Lay still, Steve. We're almost done."

'Oh *that's* right. I didn't.'

A bit of bloody glass dropped into a small dish next to his head. Lovely. "What-"

"Guy broke a bottle across your head," Roddy said instantly, "Then he jammed you with it for good measure. It took both Ian and Andrew to get rid of him. You're a bit of a mess, but you'll be all right. Shitty night, eh?"

"No," Darren tried again. "What time is it?"

"Little after three I'd say."

"Fuck!" He snarled as the tweezers dug into his head again. "I have to go."

"No, I'd say you have to stay right here," Roddy replied mildly. The old man performing impromptu surgery on his head subdued him easily.

"Nora's waiting for me!" Darren realized he was not explaining himself terribly well. Must have been the knock on his head... Scrambled his thoughts a bit...

He heard other voices from around the room. "Nora? Who's Nora? When'd you get a girl, Steve?"

"I'll bring her here." Ah, a voice of reason. That was Andrew. "You'll have to tell me where to go though."

"Boyd's stage door." He ignored the rough laughter that greeted his direction. "Blond hair, beige coat. She'll be waiting."

"All right then." Andrew was off with a bang of the door.

"And you lot-" Roddy again, "Off with you all. Wouldn't know how to treat a lady if you fell over one."

Evidently deciding the show was over, the other wrestlers trooped out. They weren't a bad lot, Darren reminded himself. Just young and rough around the edges. He'd been like them himself, once upon a time.

"I think that's the last of it," Roddy announced, dropping a final bit of glass into the dish, "You do know how to get into trouble, don't you?"

"Hardly my fault," he protested faintly.

"No. I suppose it wasn't, at that."

Another bang of the door announced Andrew's return. "Darren?" Nora sound so worried...

"Oh my," she gasped, getting a good look at his injury. She took his hand. "What happened?"

Roddy answered before Darren could. "Bloke smashed a bottle over his head. Luckily, the lad's got a thick skull. I'll have him stitched back up as good as new in no time, Miss Nora."

Darren heard her sigh. "Thank you," she said softly to Roddy, before kneeling beside the table he was lying on. She kissed his forehead, then smiled at him wryly. "Good thing you've got a thick skull." The faint sheen of tears in her eyes belied her teasing tone.

"Yes, indeed." The feel of Roddy's needle sliding through his skin was barely noticeable now that he had Nora to look at. He just wished she wasn't crying.

Roddy was done in no time, like he'd promised. He and Nora helped Darren to sit back up. "He's got a concussion," he said to her, "Have you ever-"

"I have an accident-prone cousin," she assured him, "I know what to do."

"Excellent!" Roddy boomed. He patted Darren on the shoulder. "Looks like you're in good hands lad. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Nora."

He gathered up his supplies and left them alone.

Nora busied herself with finding his shirt and jacket as Darren waited for the room to stop spinning. He slipped his clothes on obediently, standing up with a groan. He couldn't help but smile at Nora's look of concentration. He could tell from her expression that she was determined to catch him if he fell. He didn't have the heart to tell her that if he went down, he'd most likely end up taking her tiny frame down with him.

"Ready to go?" Nora asked, after he managed to remain vertical.

"Ready."

He draped an arm around her shoulders, trying not to lean on her too hard. Her arm went around his waist, steadying him carefully. They made an odd-looking couple on the way back to his flat, her with her dramatic makeup and impractical shoes, him leaning on her with his haphazard attire and blood encrusted hair. For once, Darren was very glad to be going home in the dark.

They reached his home in less time than he had believed possible. At the stoop Nora didn't bother to wait for him to unlock the door; she simply fished his keys out of his jacket pocket and did it herself.

"I want you to change for bed first," she ordered as they entered the flat, "Then you can have a cup of tea while I clean up some of that dry blood."

"Yes, ma'am," he said faintly, smiling at her bossy tone.

"And I don't want any sass from you, young man!" she threatened playfully. Switching to a more serious tone she asked, "Do you need any help?"

He considered for a moment. He was neither moving nor thinking at top speed. Then again, he didn't want her to see him naked for the first time under these circumstances. "No," he decided finally, "I'll be fine."

Nora looked at him closely before nodding. "Leave the door open then. Just in case."

Slowly he made his way into the bedroom, wondering what on earth to put on. Usually he slept in his boxer shorts, but that wouldn't really be appropriate for tonight. Finally he settled on an ancient pair of sweatpants and an equally elderly T-shirt. He wouldn't be a fashion plate but at least he'd be decent.

Somehow he managed to get changed without keeling over. He kept his back to the door, wondering if Nora was watching him. Of course if she was it would just be to make sure he was still standing, but the thought of her eyes on him...

He sighed and waited for his tentative erection to die back down. Nice to know he had enough blood left for that.

He wandered over to the dining table, taking a seat across from the place Nora had claimed as her own. She already had a cup of tea waiting for him, how thoughtful. He wondered vaguely where she'd gone.

As though his thoughts had summoned her, she emerged from the bathroom carrying antiseptic and a face cloth. He watched as she filled a bowl with water at the kitchen sink and carried it over to him. Without a word, she dipped the cloth into the water and, careful not to dislodge any stitches, began dabbing away at the dried blood surrounding his wound. Once she was satisfied with the cleanup she retrieved a paper towel, doused it liberally with antiseptic and proceeded to methodically disinfect the stitches themselves.

Darren's breath left him with a pained hiss as she completed her work. He was being a baby he knew but that *stung*. Nora tossed the towel into the rubbish bin and rubbed his shoulders soothingly until the burning faded.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, the first time she'd spoken since she began, "But this way it won't get infected."

He nodded and covered one of her hands with his own. "I know. Thank you."

She bent down to kiss his cheek before quickly cleaning up her supplies. Then she joined him at the table for a cup of tea. They drank in silence; he felt too light-headed to make conversation, and she seemed lost in her own thoughts. After they finished, she placed the mugs in the sink to soak. Darren smiled to himself at how at home she seemed here.

"How are you getting home tonight?" he asked finally, ready to argue that she mustn't walk alone.

"I'm not," she declared, surprising him. She hastened to elaborate, "Someone needs to wake you up every two hours to make sure the concussion is healing itself. I elected myself to do it." She hesitated, seemingly waiting for him to argue with her.

He did not. It was worth getting bashed on the head if it meant she was going to start sleeping here. "I'll take the couch then and-"

"Absolutely not," she said firmly, "It's your bed; I want you in it. You need to sleep."

"But-"

Nora held up a hand to silence him. "If there's room we'll share the bed. If not, I'll take the couch. Understand?" she asked in a tone that brooked no argument.

He nodded meekly.

"Good." She smiled ruefully, "Now that I'm finished yelling at you, let's get you into bed."

He went quietly, allowing her to tuck him in like a child. "Plenty of room," she murmured, "Could I-" she bit her lip, "Could I borrow something to sleep in?"

"Of course," he agreed instantly. "Take anything you like."

"Thanks." She started opening drawers, searching for something suitable. He couldn't imagine what she'd end up with. Anything he owned, she'd swim in. Finally she seemed to find something she liked and shut herself in the bathroom to change.

When she returned, she'd washed her face and was dressed in a soft blue cotton shirt that was one of his favorites. It looked far better on her. The shirt tails reached nearly to her knees, covering her completely. She looked even more ravishing than she did in her pajamas.

Nora kissed him gently on the mouth and slipped into bed beside him. "Are you okay?" she asked, before turning off the light.

"I'm fine." He just didn't know how she expected him to sleep with her curled up next to him.

"Good." She flicked the switch, casting the room into darkness. "Good night, Darren."

"Good night, Nora."

He lay quietly, listening to her breathing, intending to simply lie here and enjoy this turn of events.

The next thing he knew, Nora was shaking his shoulder gently and calling his name. "Mmmm?"

He could hear the smile in her voice. "I've got the light on so be careful when you open your eyes."

He blinked cautiously, then focused on her. Her hair was slightly rumpled from sleep and she looked even more beautiful than the last time he'd seen her. As though answering his prayers she leaned in close, ending up half on top of him. She stared fixedly into his eyes for a long moment and then smiled. "Good. The left one's less dilated this time. You're getting better."

With that, she rolled off him and turned off the light. He groaned mentally and closed his eyes once more. Seeming to understand his disappointment, Nora slid closer to him. She rested her head on his shoulder, draping an arm over his chest. "Is this okay?"

He wrapped his arms around her in return, pulling her even closer. "This is perfect."

And they slept.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning they had their first real fight. Darren wasn't even sure how it had started. The day had started off almost absurdly perfect. Nora had taken another look at his eyes when they awoke and pronounced the concussion healed. Blessedly, that meant his mind also felt considerably clearer. Funny how you never fully appreciated the ability to think straight until you lost it.

They'd had a brief, affectionate scuffle over who was to make breakfast. Nora had insisted on cooking since he was still injured. He'd politely refused to hear of it; she was a guest in his home and should not have to fend for herself. In the end, they'd compromised and shared the task. 'Just as though we were married,' he thought with secret pleasure. He knew it was far too soon to be thinking such things, but sometimes he just... couldn't help it.

The argument had started after breakfast. They'd been lingering over their tea, discussing plans for the day. Nora seemed to be leaning towards taking in a movie when he made his mistake, "I think I'll go in a little late today. I want to walk you to Boyd's first."

Nora sat her mug down and asked with deceptive calm, "You're going to work today?"

He nodded, surprised at her question.

"Somebody stuck a beer bottle in your head last night and today you're going to work?" This time the undercurrent of anger in her voice began to register.

Darren tried to explain. "I have to at least go in-"

She cut him off, "Are you *trying* to get yourself killed?"

He tried to answer but she barreled on, "Because that's how it looks to me. What if tonight someone has a knife? What then? Or a gun?"

"Nora-"

She stood up hurriedly and started collecting her things, evidently not noticing she was still clad in only his shirt. "This is ridiculous. I'm going to go. Don't come by tonight, I'll get myself home."

Taken completely aback, Darren said the first thing that came into his head, "I won't let you walk home by yourself."

Furiously, she whirled to face him, "*Let* me?" she asked in a deadly tone.

"That's not what I-"

"It was terrifying to see you like that!" she burst out, "You could have died last night! Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?"

"Yes," he ground out. "Because it's the same way *I* feel every time I picture what would have happened if I hadn't been walking by that alley that night."

Her anger seemed to evaporate at his words, leaving only the fear and grief that had been motivating her behind. He crossed to her slowly, not wanting to startle her and took her coat out of her hands, tossing it aside. "I won't fight tonight," he promised intently, "I swear I won't. I'll work the mic or help with paperwork until Roddy clears me."

He wrapped his arms around her gently. "I promise you I'll be careful."

Nora drew in a shuddering breath, and he held her tighter. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I don't know what got into me. I was just so *worried* about you..."

"It's okay," he replied, stroking her hair, "I understand."

"Maybe we should stop seeing so much of each other," she said miserably.

His hand stilled, "Is that really what you want?" he asked carefully.

Nora shifted a little at the question, but remained silent.

He tilted her head up to face him, unwilling to let it go. "Is it?" he demanded.

She maintained her silence. Desperate to provoke some kind of response, he bent down and kissed her fiercely, pulling her flush against him. Her arms went around his shoulders immediately, kissing him back with equal passion. He plunged his tongue into her mouth, trying to wipe away all memory of the last ten minutes.

When the need to breathe finally drove them apart, Darren realized he'd actually lifted her off the floor. He carefully placed her back on her feet as she pulled his mouth down to hers again. Mouths locked, they made their way to the couch, somehow managing not to knock anything over on their way. Nora ended up lying beneath him, and as he left her mouth to attack her neck, she wrapped her legs around his waist.

Darren thrust against her with a groan, already painfully hard. He kissed his way down her neck until the fabric of her shirt- his shirt- got in the way. Without waiting for permission he unbuttoned it, baring her breasts to his eyes. God, but she was exquisite. He cupped one breast tentatively, brushing his thumb over her dusky pink nipple. Nora arched her back with a cry, pressing herself more firmly into his hands. Lowering his head he lapped at the delicate bud, relishing her cries of pleasure.

He turned his attention to the neglected breast, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her more tightly against him. Nora groaned and thrust her fingers into his hair, rocking her hips against his. Darren, enraptured, barely noticed the pressure on his stitches. He thrust against her again, setting up a rhythm. Only the thin material of his sweatpants and her panties separated them as they rocked their hips together. Nora pulled his mouth back to hers with a whimper, and he thrust his tongue into her mouth as he felt her begin to convulse beneath him.

"That's it, Nora, that's right. Let go, angel, let it happen," he whispered assurances to her, lapping at the sensitive patch of skin behind her ear he'd discovered before. He sucked tenderly as her moans reached a crescendo and pulled back slightly to watch her. Her eyes met his in shocked pleasure and he stroked her flushed face gently. "I'm here, angel, I'm right here. Oh, Nora..."

With a keening cry her whole body went taut. Her head fell back with a gasp as the delicious little convulsions swept over her. He continued to thrust against her, prolonging her pleasure as much as he could.

With a final cry she stilled beneath him, body trembling. "Beautiful Nora..." he whispered, quickening his pace. He wasn't going to last much longer. "My angel..."

She ran her fingers over his face, gasping as he sucked them into his mouth. "Oh God, Darren..."

The sound of her voice breaking on his name pushed him over the edge. Burying his face against her neck he thrust hard and came with soul-deep groan of her name. "Nora...!"

Afterwards they remained locked together for what seemed like an eternity until Darren realized he must be crushing her. Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he rolled them over until she lay on his chest.

"Marry me, Nora." The words were out before he could stop them.

She looked up at him, eyes wide. "What?"

"I know this is too fast," he admitted, "But I want you to be my wife."

Nora looked shaken. "Oh my God..." she breathed. She hesitated a moment and looked at him carefully. "You're not asking... because of this are you?" she asked, gesturing to their rather compromising position. "Because of what I told you before about Matt?"

He shook his head emphatically. "I think I've loved you since the moment I met you. I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you if you'll have me. Nora? Will you marry me?"

Darren could feel his heart beginning to crack as she stared at him in silence. He'd moved too quickly, scared her off. He prayed that she'd at least consent to still see him after this. It had been less than a week but he already couldn't imagine his life without her.

An eternity later, Nora nodded her head slowly. "Yes," she whispered. At his look of disbelief, she said again, "I'll marry you."

She rested her head on his chest, seemingly content to let the matter lie with that.

Darren stroked her hair with a trembling hand, still unable to believe she had agreed. "I love you, Nora," he whispered, relieved to finally be able to say the words, "God, how I love you."

They spent the rest of the morning huddled in each other's arms, each trying to imagine where their future might lead.


	6. Chapter 6

True to his word, Darren did not fight that night. He'd expected to receive his share of good-natured, if crude teasing for taking out a girl from Boyd's. However Roddy seemed to have settled the matter before he even came in. Darren had no idea what was said, but whatever it was had been highly effective. The only reference made to her that night was the occasional, polite, "How is Miss Nora today?" Thank God for Roddy.

If Nora's acceptance of his proposal had convinced him of anything, it was that he needed to find a new job. She hadn't asked him to promise that something like the beer bottle incident wouldn't happen again. She knew as well as he did that such a promise would be futile. Darren had seen how upset she was at his injury. He never wanted to put her through that again. There was no guarantee that the next time wouldn't be worse. Much worse.

Unfortunately, he was still hitting the same wall that he had before. He couldn't think of a single marketable skill he had beyond wrestling. While helping with the payroll, he'd broached the idea to Roddy of possibly taking over the operation once the older man retired.

He'd received a laugh for his trouble, although one tinged with both sadness and understanding. "I'm not going anywhere, lad. Not for a long time. And even if I did, it wouldn't help you any. The business is no better on this side. Some weeks even the pay's worse. No, my boy, you'll need something better than this if you want to take care of your young lady."

So that settled that. If he wanted to provide for Nora, he needed a new line of work. He just couldn't imagine what that line could be.

He raised the idea to Nora as they walked back to her flat that night. "If you could have me do anything for a living, what would it be?"

"I don't want you to do *anything* just because it's what I want you to do," she said immediately, "I want you to do something you enjoy."

"I don't know what I enjoy," he admitted, "I've never done anything but wrestle."

Nora considered for a moment. "Well, think about what you like to do when you're not wrestling. You like to read, is there anything else?"

"Spend time with you."

Nora smiled and let them into her flat. "That's sweet but I don't know how helpful it is. All right, you like books. Have you ever considered writing?"

He took a seat at the table. "Writing?" No, he couldn't say that he had.

"Yes, writing. You could write a book of your own." Nora sat down next to him, eyes sparkling. He could tell that she was warming to her idea.

"But what would I write about?" he asked in confusion.

"Well, *anything* really. You could write about what it's like to wrestle for Roddy at the carnival!" she said excitedly, "Wrestling's been really big for awhile now. I bet a lot of people would be interested."

The idea was beginning to grow on him as well. A writer. Nothing dangerous about that. Except that he was pretty sure that they didn't pay you until you actually had a book written. Somehow he had a feeling that was going to take a while. "How would I have time?"

Now it was Nora's turn to be confused, "What do you mean?"

"Well, I work all night," he explained. "And if we're going to be married I need to spend time with you. When would I have time to write?"

Nora shook her head. "You wouldn't have to wrestle anymore."

"I wouldn't?" he had no idea what she was driving at. Of course he'd have to wrestle, how else would he support her? "How are we going to live? I don't know how much you make dancing but I don't think we can both get by on it."

"I wouldn't be dancing anymore either."

"Nora..." He placed his hand over hers. "Angel, you've lost me completely."

She bit her lip and said cautiously, "How much do you know about immigration law?"

Darren shook his head. "I don't know, a bit. Why?"

She took a deep breath. "Did you know that if someone marries a English citizen, they gain citizenship too?"

Now that she mentioned it, he had been vaguely aware of that. But what- oh. Oh. "You'll become a citizen once we're married," he said slowly, "They'll have to let you teach."

"That's right."

"I see." They were silent for a long moment. "Is that why you said yes?" he asked quietly. Nora was the love of his life but he didn't want her to tie herself to him just so she could get a better job. He wanted her for his wife, but he was selfish enough to only want her if she truly loved him.

"No!" she said quickly.

'A little too quickly?' the insecure part of him asked. It was an insult to Nora to even be considering this, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. After all, she'd never actually *said* that she loved him.

"Darren!" she said desperately, sensing his uncertainty. "I would never- ever- do something like that. I swear I would never use you like that. You have to believe me."

She certainly sounded sincere. He nodded slightly, unable to look at her, still not totally convinced. "All right."

"No, it's not all right!" Nora sounded as though she was on the verge of tears. "Why don't you believe me?"

Darren looked her straight in the eye. "Why else would you want me?" he asked painfully, honestly.

Nora gasped at the agony in his eyes. "Darren, I love you," she said clearly. "You saved my life that night. Do you know how special that makes you? Most people would have just kept walking. Or taken one look at me and decided that I must have been asking for it. But you-"

"You're grateful," he interrupted flatly.

"Of course I'm grateful!" she cried, understanding his meaning. "But I don't like spending time with you because I'm grateful. I don't get turned on just looking at you because I'm grateful. That happens because I love you."

"Nora-" he said shakily, but she was on a roll.

"I never did what we did today with anyone! Never! I knew Matt for twenty years, and we never even came close. I've known you for less than a week! Doesn't that tell you anything?"

"I'm sorry," he gasped finally, closing his eyes. Nora caressed his face gently.

"I love you, Darren. Do you believe that?"

He nodded, unable to speak, finally believing her.

"Good," she said softly. "I want you to do something for me then."

"Anything," he whispered. He do anything to make this up to her.

"Make love to me."

His eyes flew open at her request. "Nora..." Her name was all his suddenly too dry mouth could manage.

"I mean it, Darren." She sat down carefully on his lap. "I've been saving myself for the man I was going to marry, the love of my life. I want to give myself to you now."

"Oh God, Nora..." He cupped her face tenderly. "You don't have to do this to prove yourself to me. I believe you, angel."

"I'm not trying to prove anything," she insisted, leaning close. "I want you."

"Are you sure-"

Nora covered his mouth with her own, effectively silencing him. When the kiss ended she looked him straight in the eye. "I love you. I want you. Now take me to bed." She smiled crookedly as she gave her order and his control deserted him.

He stood up with her in his arms and carried her into her bedroom. She hit the light on their way past so he could find his way around the room. He placed her gently on the bed, lowering himself to lie next to her.

Darren raised himself on one elbow and gazed down at her as he stroked her face. "So beautiful..." He couldn't believe that she was really his.

This had to be slow, he reminded himself, slow and sweet. Nora deserved that for her first time. He'd been out of control that morning; it couldn't happen again. He wanted to make this perfect for her. "Tell me if I do anything you don't like," he said softly.

Her eyes fluttered shut at his caress. "Couldn't happen," she replied simply.

Darren smiled at her declaration and leaned down to kiss her. Her lips parted for him willingly and he slid his tongue into her mouth, exploring everywhere. She whimpered when he licked the roof of her mouth and twined her tongue around his own. Taking control of the kiss she returned the favor, claiming his mouth for her own.

He would have been content to just kiss her forever, but Nora had other ideas. She ghosted her fingers over his hair, careful not to inflict any more damage than he'd already taken. Her hands trailed over his back and found their way to the hem of his shirt. Sliding her hands underneath, she caressed his bare skin, molding his muscles with her fingers.

Groaning, he tore his mouth away from hers and kissed his way down her neck. He ran his fingers over the neckline of her thin tank top. "May I take this off?"

Nora hummed in agreement, "Oh yes, please." She lifted her arms to help him as he pulled the material over her head. Darren placed a tender kiss between her breasts before stroking her through her bra. She moaned happily at his touch, pushing herself more firmly against him. God, but she was so responsive...

He buried his face against her, licking and nipping, unable to get enough of her. He stroked his fingers gently over the clasp of her bra several times, giving her every opportunity to tell him no. When she made no protest, he unhooked it deftly and tossed it aside.

Lowering his head again, he mapped her breasts with his tongue, lavishing attention on first one, then the other. Nora was panting by now, writhing beneath him. He sucked one of her nipples into his mouth, and she cried out in startled pleasure.

Suddenly her hands were on his shoulders, pushing him away. Darren got off of her immediately, shaken, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- did I hurt you?"

Nora giggled a little at his concern. "It feels wonderful," she assured him, before adding shyly, "But I want to touch you too."

He nearly whimpered at her words. She wanted to touch him. She *did* want him; she wasn't just making a point.

"Take your shirt off," she requested. He obeyed her at once, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. She looked at him avidly for a moment and trailed her fingers lightly over his chest. "I'm not sure what to do," she admitted softly.

He took her hand in his and kissed her palm fervently. "Do whatever you like," he told her, "I'll love whatever you do to me."

She thought for a moment, then nodded. "Lie down," she ordered huskily. Darren settled himself on his back, wondering what she was planning.

He didn't have to wait long. Her lips went to his ear first, her tongue tracing the outside as her fingers swirled lazily through the sparse hair on his chest. She sucked at his earlobe for a moment, making him moan, and then worked her way down, nibbling tenderly at the strong tendons in his neck.

She straddled him, giving herself better access to his skin. She ran her hands over his chest, watching him intently, paying particular attention to those places that made him shudder. When her clever fingers found one of his nipples, Darren groaned and fought hard not to thrust his hips against her. Nora was touching him. The thought alone was enough to drive him out of his mind.

She helped matters along considerably when she leaned down and lashed her tongue over the tiny bud of flesh. That action, followed by the delicate scrape of her teeth over the same terrain was enough to make him grunt and bury his fingers in her hair, stilling her.

She looked up at him, fear in her eyes. "Did that hurt?"

He shook his head, panting, trying to regain control. "No," he hastened to dispel her fears, "It feels too good. I'm not going to last if you keep doing that."

Nora's eyes widened in understanding. Then, with a very naughty smile, she lowered her head and deliberately repeated the process on his other nipple. Darren tried to groan and laugh at the same time, resulting in a kind of desperate chuckle. "You just like to torture me."

She began kissing her way over his stomach, pausing to flick her tongue into his naval. She looked up at his gasp and smiled, "I didn't think anything could feel too good."

With that she trailed her tongue along the waistband of his jeans and brushed her fingers lightly over his hardness.

Darren threw an arm over his face with a choked groan, concentrating on not thrusting himself into her hand. She was going to kill him, he decided, and he was going to love every minute of it.

Nora gave the bulge an experimental squeeze and suddenly it was all too much. If he didn't get her off him he was going to come in his pants. He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her back up to him. Rolling them over until he was on top of her, he kissed her fiercely. "You're driving me insane," he panted when their lips parted, "I've never been this turned on before."

Not the most poetic of words but Nora obviously approved. She squirmed happily beneath him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the delicious friction. "Stop that!" he scolded, "It's my turn."

He unfastened her skirt, looking into her eyes for any sign of fear. Seeing none, he slid it over her hips and off. He stroked the thin material of her panties, placing a tender kiss to her cloth covered mound. He ran his fingers between her legs, feeling how soaked the material was with her juices. Oh God, she was so wet for him... He had to taste her.

Without waiting for permission, he slid her panties down her legs, sighing in relief as she lifted her hips to help. She wanted it too; he wasn't going too fast.

Darren took a moment to just look at her sprawled out on the bed like a banquet. Her face was flushed with arousal, and she was panting. 'Because of me...' He felt a surge of very masculine pride at the thought that this amazing woman wanted him, *loved* him. "Oh, Nora..." he breathed, just for the pleasure of saying her name.

He turned his attention to her glistening curls. God, he could smell how much she wanted him. He caressed her thighs, urging her to open for him. Hesitantly she did, and he took his place between her legs, inhaling the heady scent of her.

He buried his nose in her, taking her in. Nora moaned at his touch. 'A virgin...' he reminded himself, 'She's a virgin.' He felt a very ungentlemanly urge to beat his chest and howl at the moon at the thought that *he* would be the first man to touch her like this. He gave a long lick, reveling in the sweet, musky taste of her. He'd never be able to get enough of her. Never.

He traced delicate circles with his tongue around the sweet, hidden bud of flesh. Nora was moaning almost continually now, and he doubled his efforts, sliding a finger inside her. Her muscles clenched down on him as she gasped, and he hesitated, afraid that he'd scared her. A moment passed before she relaxed and groaned, "Oh *God* Darren..."

He added another finger, trying to open her up as best he could. He knew this act had to hurt her a little, but he wanted to make it as easy for her as possible. He pumped slowly, stretching her as he lapped at her sensitive spot.

Nora cried out to him, and he could feel her muscles begin to tremble around him. He thrust harder, licking her more vigorously, and her entire body tensed and then began to shake gloriously as she climaxed.

He continued to lap at her, nursing her through it until she moaned at the stimulation and begged weakly, "Come here."

Darren obliged her at once, crawling up her body and kissing her deeply, sharing her flavor with her. She clung to him for a moment, panting, and then whispered, "I want you inside of me."

He shuddered hard at her words, the thought alone nearly pushing him over the edge. "Are you-"

"I'm sure!" she cried, "Now please- *please* take me."

The sound of her voice begging him to do exactly what he longed to do shattered his control. He removed the remainder of his clothing with more haste than elegance and moved over her.

He kissed her hotly as he took his erection in hand and guided himself to her entrance. Darren looked deeply into her eyes and whispered, "I love you Nora," as he pushed gently, easing just the head inside.

Nora moaned at the sensation and he slid his hands into her hair, seeking to soothe her. "Keep going," she gasped.

He pushed harder and slid a few more inches into her. She was so wet, so tight... This was already better than he'd ever dreamed possible and they'd barely started.

The faint sheen of tears in her eyes brought him back to himself. "Nora? I can stop if you want me to. We don't have to." In truth he didn't know if he could stop but somehow, if Nora wanted to, he'd find a way.

She shook her head and said in a pained whisper, "No, don't stop. It hurts, but... it feels good too. Keep going."

He continued to push until he felt the thin membrane he'd only read about before. He looked into her eyes and Nora nodded, answering his unspoken question. He pulled back slightly and thrust into her to the hilt. She cried out, and he clutched her to him, stroking her hair. "That's it," he whispered frantically. "That's it, angel. It's over now. I'm sorry, Nora. God I'm so sorry..."

He kissed her cheeks tenderly, licking away her tears. "I won't move until you tell me to," he promised, body shaking with the effort of remaining still. Her arms went around him at that, offering her forgiveness without saying a word.

Finally her eyes fluttered open and she tried to smile at him. "Don't be sorry. It's not your fault."

Darren couldn't quite agree with her, but he nodded anyway. "Are you all right?"

He could feel her making an effort to relax her muscles. "I'm fine," she assured him, "It feels... it feels like you're a part of me."

She was right, he realized. He'd been making such an effort not to feel what he was feeling that he hadn't noticed how close he felt to her. "We're together now," he replied, "Really together." Their breath was in synch he noticed. He wouldn't be at all surprised if their pounding heartbeats were as well.

"It's just like I hoped it would be," she gave a genuine smile this time and stroked the clenched muscles of his back, "Make love to me now."

He kissed her tenderly as he slowly pulled out of her and pushed back in as gently as he could. They both moaned at the thrust, and he was relieved to hear that she sounded less pained this time.

His next thrust provoked a gasp of surprised pleasure from her. "Oh! Oh it *does* feel good."

He kissed her throat, delighted that she was sharing his pleasure in this act. He set up an agonizingly slow rhythm until she slid her hands down his back to squeeze his ass. "A little faster?" she asked hesitantly, wrapping her legs around his waist. He obeyed at once, thrusting a little harder, a little faster each time he pulled out.

Nora was moaning again, and this time it was definitely pleasure. He slid a hand around to rub at the sensitive bud between her legs. He wasn't going to last much longer, and he wanted her to come with him.

She threw her head back with a cry, and he thrust harder, teasing her with rapid little strokes. He traced a circle around the tiny bud once, twice, and flicked it gently. She screamed and clenched down on him hard as she came. The fluttering of her inner muscles dragged his climax from him, and he buried his own cry in her mouth, coming so hard that he saw stars.

Not wanting to crush her, he rolled so that she was on top, careful to stay inside her. He wasn't willing to lose their connection just yet.

Darren winced at the wet splash of tears on his chest. He'd tried so hard not to hurt her. He rubbed her back tenderly, "Nora?"

"Oh, Darren," she whispered, looking up at him with a tremulous smile. "It was absolutely perfect."

"You're... happy?"

"Of course I'm happy!" She laughed a little, tears dissipating, and kissed him tenderly, "I love you."

"I love you too, Nora," he replied, hugging her hard. "I don't even know how to tell you how much."

"You don't have to," she said contentedly, resting her head on his chest, "You just showed me."


	7. Chapter 7

When he awoke, the first thing Darren realized was that Nora was no longer in bed with him. He reached for her, hoping she'd simply moved to the other side of the bed and came up with empty arms. "Nora?" he called blearily, blinking against the sun.

"Over here." Her response came immediately and he looked in her direction, focusing on her at last.

She was dressed only in his shirt, a habit of hers he was growing to adore, and straddling one of the kitchen chairs she'd somehow brought in without him noticing. Propped against the back was her sketchbook.

"What are you doing?"

"Drawing you," she replied with a smile, brushing back her tousled hair. "I always want to remember just how you look this morning."

How he looked? Disheveled he would imagine. "How do I look this morning?"

"Content," she replied succinctly, "You look happier than I've ever seen you; it even shows while you sleep."

"I am," he answered honestly, "It's because of you."

Nora blushed in pleasure at his response. "You're absolutely beautiful."

"Beautiful?" That was a word he never would have applied to himself. "That's your department, angel. Not mine."

She shook a finger at him in mock annoyance. "Which one of us is the artist?" she asked, not waiting for a response, "If I say you're beautiful, then you're beautiful."

Darren smiled at her insistence. All right, if she wanted to think he was beautiful, he wouldn't try to stop her. "Does it bother you that I'm older than you are?"

Nora looked at him quizzically. "You're- what- thirty-six or thirty-seven?"

"Thirty-eight."

"And I'm twenty-three." She thought for a minute. "No, it doesn't bother me. You're Darren, that's all I care about. Does it bother you I'm younger than you are?"

"Of course not," he was startled she even had to ask.

"Then I guess that's settled." She resumed her sketching.

"When do you want to get married?"

"I was just thinking about that," she replied without looking up, "Today's good for me."

"Today?" He couldn't possibly have heard her right. "Are you sure?"

"Mm-hmm," she murmured distractedly. "Ah. Finished." She put the book on her chair and came to sit next to him.

"I don't really have any friends here," she explained, "And I never wanted a big wedding anyway. Besides, I'm more interested in *being* married to you than I am in actually marrying you. Does that make sense?"

He couldn't agree with her more. "Perfect sense. All right, today then. Although I don't know where I'll find a jewelry store open on a Sunday."

"I have great faith in you," she said, kissing him quickly, "You get the rings, and I'll line up a church. I know a pastor who owes me a favor."

"Fine by me. But first-" He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her thoroughly. "I've been waiting to do that."

Nora smiled and kissed him back. "We do have all day," she murmured when they parted for air.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked innocently, hands already going to the hem of her shirt.

"Guess."


	8. Epilogue

"I want you to be completely honest."

Nora looked up at him over the stack of papers she held. "I know you do. I heard you the first time."

Darren laughed a little nervously at himself. "Am I driving you mad yet?"

She pretended to consider this, "Well... not yet. But you're definitely hovering." She pointed an imperious finger at their living room and ordered mock-seriously, "Now go relax and let me read!"

He kissed her quickly and obeyed her, sitting down with a book. He tossed it down minutes later, unable to focus. Instead he let his thoughts drift over the past year's events.

To say their wedding had been small would be an understatement. A better adjective would be 'tiny' or perhaps 'minuscule'. Roddy and Andrew made up the entire congregation. However, what they lacked in guests they made up for in joy. Nora pronounced it "perfect," and he was hard-pressed to disagree with her.

Things had been almost ridiculously heavenly since then. The school that had employed Nora before had been delighted to take her back once she supplied proof of her citizenship. Her salary might not have made them rich, but it enabled them to move into a bigger flat and allowed him to quit his job to concentrate on writing.

He'd felt a bit off about letting her support him, but Nora hadn't tolerated that for long. She reminded him that he was still working, even if he wasn't bringing home a paycheck just yet. She went on to inform him that even if he just sat around all day, it would be worth it to her not to have to worry about him getting hurt wrestling.

Of course he wasn't just sitting around and in just under ten months he'd completed his first novel. He'd done as Nora suggested and wrote about his life on the carnival circuit. She'd read the first few chapters as he completed them, but he'd finished the last half of the book on his own, becoming rather adept with a typewriter as he went along.

She now held the finished result in her hands and was under orders to be brutally critical with his work. He prayed that she liked it. He'd poured more of himself into the book than he'd ever imagined possible. She just had to like it.

Hours later, Nora emerged from the bedroom empty-handed. He jumped up to meet her, taking in the tears in her eyes as she walked over and hugged him hard.

"You wrote about me." she sniffled, wiping her eyes.

"Of course." He kissed her hair, "Without you, I wouldn't have anything worth writing about."

She cried more at that, squeezing him tight. "I think it's going to be a best-seller," she pronounced at last.

"Nora..."

She stepped back and looked him straight in the eye. "You told me to be honest and I am. It's wonderful, Darren. It's truly wonderful."

She meant it, he realized, and he had absolute faith in his wife's opinions. "I'll send it off tomorrow then."

She nodded silently, then pulled his mouth down to hers. "I love you so much," she whispered as the kiss ended.

"I love you too. I can't tell you how much I love you." No matter how hard he tried, words always fell short. Nora was his whole world.

Shaking her head, Nora disagreed. "Yes, you can," she whispered, gesturing back towards the bedroom and the book, "It's all in there."

After that, there was nothing more to be said.


End file.
